The Scars He Left: A Second Chance At Happiness

oyd ordered, his vo

e man I had taken a bullet for five years

ss and blamed me, Floyd let his men be

ust the beginn

mily, he drained my blood to save her

d forced me to thrust my hands-my architect's h

name, my protection,

id, pushing me into the free

he same detached interest

turned to ice. I died hating h

t it was

en, I

ed into

ting at a drafting table, five y

smooth. No s

on the quad, smiling like the boy

ra

pte

of a guardian, I realized a terrifying truth: saving a monster's life five years

y knees in

loomed above me, black bars slicin

hat had been churned into a dirty brown by the e

was th

ngle night last winter, the man whose mere whisper made grown men

on the other s

ool coat draped over his shoulders making him lo

m stood J

through his, her smile sharp enough to cut

e engagem

e Meyers and Ryan crime families. The dress she had just torn

," Flo

ed to greet me when I brought him coffee in his study. T

d, my teeth chattering viol

dn't

Family. You insulted my fiancée.

e Enforcer stan

s a teenager, a man who had once taught m

his eyes darting to Fl

, she

utter?" F

is was the Don he had become. Ruthless. Efficient

o me, his exp

Elizebeth,"

acked against my

as a bright explosion of white light be

n't c

t tears didn't move men like Floy

w

re

o

as on fire, a stark, agonizing contrast to

d wa

the violence with the same detached interest he us

bored. She che

en

self with a hand in the snow. The cold b

Floyd through

ed the blood I spilled on the pavement five years ago, the scar that ran dow

e then. He had sworn on his mother'

ir

ow was

eeded the Ryan territor

rt

ge now. A ward of the stat

ft

low knocked

for air, the metallic taste of blo

ate b

used to sneak me extra cookies, walked

emerald dress onto

landed in the sno

," Floy

from above, dis

is perfect. If it isn't ready by da

d his ba

amed me, leaving me bleeding in the snow